Via Sequencia

Via Sequencia celebrates four years

Just after George W. Bush was re-elected president in 2004, I launched this blog as a place to spew my vitriol. I was so unbelievably angry that the people of this great country of ours could make the same mistake twice. Of course, now we can rejoice in knowing that circumstances leading up this year's general election proved to the electorate that we needed some major change. The fact that 64,417,303 of us (as the count stands so far) voted for Barack Obama to be president, gives me great hope in us. 

I am very disappointed that a majority of the voters in California felt it necessary to take away from our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters their newly given marriage rights, but I'll save that for another day's post. The fact that Barack—I feel like I can call him that since that's how he's been signing his many emails to me—mentioned the gays in his victory speech gives me some hope, as well. 

After my man Bill left office, I wondered if I'd be inspired by a presidential candidate again. I'm happy to say that I am. 

Ode to Il Supremo

Some years ago—not quite sure how many exactly—a young singer who was desperately trying to find his voice ("Am I a tenor? Am I a countertenor?") breezed into the lives of Incontesta and me. This wonderfully effervescent and flamboyant young man instantly intrigued me and very soon after won my heart. He is known by many names—Il Supremo, Prophet Gregorius, Sr. Mary Magnifique, Manprano, et cetera, but his mama gave him the name Gregory. This is my humble attempt to honor one of my favorite collaborative musicians, one of the most fabulous gayboys walking the earth, and one of my very best friends.

This very obviously brilliant—just ask him—musician started studying with Incontesta, and within a few months became quite aware that he was indeed a countertenor; as a matter of fact, he was a soprano countertenor. It was one of the most beautiful voices I'd heard, and I couldn't wait for him to finally "get it" and really come into himself vocally.

Over the next couple of years, I had the privilege of playing for him in lessons and enjoying his progress. It's such a gift to have the opportunity to witness an intuitive musician with more ambition than anyone I know work so well with such a great teacher as is my dearly beloved husband. When they worked together, sparks flew. I was witnessing history.

In 2004, when Incontesta took over as choir director and I as organist at our suburban parish, we brought Gregory on as a section leader. The choir didn't know what had hit 'em, but Incontesta and I sure did. Not only did we have our section leader, but also a resident composer, a substitute director for when we were both away, and an ambassador—or was it a mascot—of bitchiness and hilarity. (I endlessly tease him as I am doing here, but I assure you it is only out of great respect and love for the dear boy.)

It has been my great delight to watch him work toward his newly earned Master of Music degree. And in these past few years, I have had the great happiness to collaborate with Gregory on three recital projects. We had the greatest fun making wonderful music together. Next to my husband, I've enjoyed collaborating with Gregory the most.

Why am I going on like this? Because our dear boy is about to leave us for his next life-adventure as the newest soprano with Chanticleer. I couldn't be happier for him than I am. But I couldn't be sadder for myself. Our boy is moving on toward greater things. I know he isn't really leaving us; he's simply expanding his world.

Glegoly, my dear, Mommy is so proud! I am going to miss having you in my life on a near daily basis. I am going to miss hearing you sing to my right as I play the organ. I am going to miss your infectious laugh. I am going to miss trying to read my music through tears as you and I perform things like Duruflé's "Pie Jesu." I am going to miss sitting with you and bitching about the mundane. I am going to miss kissing and hugging you at least twice a week. Thank you for your compositions that I've had the great honor to premiere. Thank you for all the many things you've done for me. Thank you for being my sister, my BPI therapist, my wedding attendant, my collaborator, and my friend. I wish you the greatest success as you embark on this exciting journey. I love you with all my heart.

God bless the iPhone

Just updated my iPhone to version 2.0. Can now blog from my iPhone. My calendars now all sync properly. I am now, for the first time since buying this lovely phone, able to do all I want to do with it. Gregory, dear, I am finally without any disappointment. I'm giddy really!

5+++ Sequencia Stars

Shuffle up and deal!

Finally, after all this time of obsessing about Texas Hold 'Em by watching it on TV whenever I can find it and playing online with invisible opponents, I played a real game with real live people . . . and was the big loser.

Incontesta and I spent the evening Friday with a couple of great, long-time friends, with whom we've had poker nights before. In the past, we always played stupid games with lots of wild cards; and a bet of 50¢ was eyebrow raising. Friday was different. We played only no-limit Hold 'Em, we used real 11.5 gram chips, and a couple of our pots were as big as $15-17.

Now, I've played way more hours of this game than everybody else at this party put together times 10. And still I was the big loser, dammit! We each bought in for $20. I lost all my chips within an hour and a half, and re-bought another $20. After that, I won a couple of pots, but nothing to blog about. It became obvious that all of us were getting a little tired round about 1AM, and I was dealt two suited connectors. I only had about $7 in chips left, so I went all in. Player to my left called. Player to his left pushed all in, too. Incontesta folded (he was chip leader, as unbelievable as that is to me!) Player to my left called the last bet. OK . . . here we go! While I drew two more cards toward a straight flush, I didn't get a thing in the end and lost the hand. So . . . I and my friend opposite were out, and we decided to stop and figure out who owed what to whom. After counting all the chips in Incontesta's stack and that of my friend to the left, Incontesta had $59.95. That means we owed our host couple 5¢.

A fun three hours, for sure, but I'd rather have had the $59.95 in my stack.

Some of God's creatures are a big pain in the butt

Herman, the squirrel, strikes again. Usually he just makes a mess out of our garbage after we put it in the receptacle out back. A couple years ago, he singlehandedly ate all the tomatoes we had growing long before they were ready to be harvested. Actually, he tasted each one and left the remainder to rot in the grass.

This year, however, Herman outdid himself. He built a nest up in the underneath side of our Yaris and chewed through the fuel line that was obviously in his way. Incontesta discovered this lovely fact yesterday as he was driving home and almost passed out from the gasoline fumes that were creeping into the car. It took him two and a half hours and 3/4 of a tank of gas to go 8 miles this morning to the car dealership to be told it would cost us over $700 to undo Herman's damage (none of it covered by the warranty, of course).

Tomorrow I go shopping for a slingshot.

Magical Moments Musical

For the past twelve summers, I've had BPI, that wonderful fortnight where dreams are made and musicians find rebirth in a new—or rather old—way of doing things. For me, the magic was in finding the fortepiano after years of frustration as a pianist; then, in subsequent summers, finding myself as a full-fledged harpsichordist and organist. In other words, I have BPI, along with its brilliant and encouraging faculty, to thank for my renaissance as a musician.

While every summer in Oberlin has its own special magic, there are isolated moments for all of us individually that are exceptionally memorable. Some of those moments for me, of course, have been my own personal successes in performing; but today I'm interested only in a handful of magical moments of which I was only an observer. These four experiences I will carry with me forever:

• Die schöne Mullerin. A few years ago, my dear friends and colleagues, Max van Egmond, baritone, and Penelope Crawford, fortepianist, collaborated on performances and a recording of Franz Schubert's song cycle Die schöne Mullerin. The BPI community that summer had the once-in-a-lifetime experience of hearing these two amazing musicians perform the cycle in an early afternoon recital. Making the experience even more memorable was Penny's Conrad Graf fortepiano (c. 1835), which she had brought with her that summer for the sole purpose of playing this recital with Max.
• Weinachts Oratorio. During another summer, one of BPI's Bach years, I had the privilege of hearing my beloved Incontesta sing "Schlafe, mein Liebster" from J.S. Bach's Christmas Oratorio on the faculty concert. It was hands down some of his most beautiful singing and a moment I will never forget. An added bonus was that I was sitting with our dear Florence, who held my hand as we both cried through the entire aria.
• C.P.E. Bach Cello Concerto. Within the last couple of years, Catharina Meints wowed us all with a spectacular performance on another faculty concert with C.P.E. Bach's Concerto for Cello, Strings and Basso Continuo. Cathy's playing has always impressed me, but on this particular day, her playing was transcendent.
• Goldberg Variations. Again, a number of years ago, Lisa Goode Crawford, harpsichordist, took us all to that otherworldly place with a performance of J.S. Bach's Goldberg Variations. That same summer, she recorded the work. Much to my delight, the recording was released this year.

Moments like these are rare. I can only imagine the other magical moments musical that have occurred during the 25 years of BPI before I started attending. Many of my friends there who have been at the institute for many of those previous 25 years have similar stories to tell, I'm sure.

This summer, however, I shared a moment with two dear friends, which must join my list above. All of the above moments were very public events. This one was much more private. At the end of a voice lesson that my friend Nancy Zylstra, soprano, was giving to Florence, I began playing Schubert's "Gretchen am Spinnrade." As I began playing, Nancy began singing. What's remarkable about this is that Nancy hasn't sung in years. She stopped singing before I really got to know her about 15 years ago. But Nancy's voice was legendary. It was a sad day for all when she stopped. Well, she and I performed the song for our audience of one, Florence. When we finished, Florence's hands were over her mouth and tears began to well up in my eyes . . . and then in Nancy's. Her singing was powerful, beautiful, and very moving. I always thought I would never get to hear her sing. That evening changed all that. Thank you, Nancy, for my latest (and one of my most memorable) BPI moments. Please keep singing! 

In the lane, snow is glistenin'

Instead of bitching about the weather, which has included too much snow and temperatures that are way too low for this gayboy's comfort, I want to share a picture I took immediately after this past Thursday's snowfall. Sometimes, I love winter. And looking at this picture, makes me think of those times.

In Memoriam

Mary Fran P.
Member Emeritus of the Soprano Section

Mary Fran, retired world-class soprano who was for decades the section leader of our 1st sopranos, died last night. She suffered from Alzheimer's and had been in declining health for some time. She was a great lady, and I am going to miss her very much. Those of us who were lucky enough to know her and work with her were indeed privileged to do so.

I would like to share with you now my most memorable personal moment with Mary Fran . . . .

We, Incontesta and I, have oft been interchangeable persons to people we know and love. I would even venture to say that on rare occasion, a family member might call me Incontesta and/or him, Sequencia. Needless to say, it gets old, and I have to wonder how the error can occur, as he has hair and I don't, he sings and I play, he is him and I am me. Anyway, it happens. We are also forced to endure the assumption that we're brothers from time to time. But back to my story.

On a Sunday morning of March 2003, I was looking forward in a few days to the milestone birthday called the "Big Four-O." I had always complained up to that point that Incontesta had never thrown me any sort of surprise party, and I assumed that he wouldn't this time, either, even though THIS was certainly the year to do it! Anyway...moving on. I was standing in the hallway of our church, vested in cassock and surplice, ready to begin my participation in the Eucharist that was about to commence.

I noticed Mary Fran, who had retired from singing in the choir a couple years earlier, was making her way over to me with a big smile on her face. She said, "I got the invitation and will definitely be there for the suprise! Thank you for inviting me."

Smiling back, I said, quite obliviously, "What invitation?"

The color draining from her face and her expression turning to a combination of embarrassment, frustration, and deep thought, as if to be thinking of some way to turn the clock back a minute or so, she shouted as only an 80-something diva could who has lost much of her hearing, "Damn! You're the wrong one!"

As she hurriedly turned and disappeared, I began to howl with glee! Not only did her "You're the wrong one!" crack me up, but Incontesta was throwing me a party! Yippee!

I had decided to chase after Mary Fran to tell her that if she didn't tell anyone that she'd told me, I certainly wouldn't. But as I chased after her, I saw her catch up with Incontesta and spill the beans. He was far more upset that the surprise had been spoiled than I was. As a matter of fact, today I'm extremely happy that I have this story to tell about our dear old Mary Fran.

May she rest in peace.

Open Letter to the Sewing Circle (aka Stitch 'n Bitch)

Circle of Sewers Bitches
444 N. You Know Where
Chicago USA

My dearest Fellow Stitchers Assholes,

What the hell was that? What did I ever do to you? Did it make you all feel better to each pick up your respective piles of shit and all at once hurl them at me? I certainly hope it did something for you, because I'm going to be cleaning it out of my hair, ears, nose, eyes, mouth, and clothes for the entire three-week hiatus before seeing you all again.

In all our weeks/months/years together, I have never felt so unwelcome, unwanted, unloved, and unsafe. Talk about having your parade rained on. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I arrived tonight giddy and all upbeat. Is this your way of assisting the universe in keeping itself in balance? To shoot me down hard to a low that is equal and opposite to my high? Or was it simply a way for you each to feel better about your own current state of unhappiness?

Well, whatever it was, it was successful. I thank you all for a very enlightening unpleasant evening. Oh, and before I forget, a very merry fucking Chrismahanukwanzaakkuh to you, too.

Very sincerely yours,
La Sequencia

01.20.09

Everyone knows what that is, right? 01.20.09? You're right! It's Bush's last day in office as this country's worst president.

Via Sequencia has been avoiding the topic of politics for a while. It had just become too depressing and annoying. But as the primary season is soon to begin in Iowa, it seems apropos to be a little political. After all, this blogger's entrance to the blogosphere was precipitated by the unfortunate outcome of the last presidential election.

So, we know Bush will be out. But who to nominate as our democratic candidate? I swear I just don't know what to do. Never before have I been so undecided at this point.

I like both Hillary and Barack. If you know me personally, you probably know that I'm a real friend of Bill (Clinton, that is). Forget his indiscretion with "that woman." It just doesn't matter. He was a great president with Hillary by his side. He wasn't perfect; no one will ever be a perfect president. But he was, in my humble opinion, a great man for the job. I can only believe that Hillary, with Bill by her side, would make a good president, as well. And I'd love to see the US finally elect a woman to the job.

Barack I also like. Not only is he the senator from my current state of residence, but he is a fresh, young, enthusiastic, progressive voice, and he's becoming a political rock star. I'm just a little concerned about some of his answers relating to issues that directly affect me as one of the gays. While Clinton didn't exactly do everything the way we (the gays) would have wanted him to during his presidency, he did always seem to be on our side. Will Barack be on our side? Will Hillary?

And which one can beat Giuliani? See why I hate this time in the four-year presidential political cycle? It really wears me out. And it's just gettin' goin'.